


Unusual Orders on National Geographic

by thepizzasitter



Category: Actor RPF, RPF - Fandom, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Because I can, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jensen, Coffee Shops, Explicit Sexual Content, I do what I want, J2, M/M, Porn, RPF, Smut, Top Jared, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepizzasitter/pseuds/thepizzasitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He grumbled as he wiped down the last table, when the bell over the door jingled merrily and Jensen turned around ready to spill some blood on the newly washed floor. It was a moose. A very attractive moose with long honey brown hair, sweet hazel eyes, and pouty lips that he wouldn't mind taking photos of for the National Geographic's mating edition." A J2 Valentine Fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unusual Orders on National Geographic

**Author's Note:**

> Gift fic for sammyxinterrupted and thelittletreetopper over on Tumblr.

_Yeah? Well, you have a nice fucking day yourself, bitch!_

He'd had it.

He was done, finished, and he didn't want to deal with one more goddamned fancy-heeled woman and her fruity date on this most fuck-awful of days.

Yeah, he was one of _those_ people. So sue him, there was a _reason_ some people hated Valentine's Day. If the deluge of red and pink straining your eyes at every glance didn't annoy you, then perhaps it was the love music that played everywhere from the Denny's to the porn shop across town. There was only one type of love music that should ever play in a porn shop, and it wasn't Taylor Swift. Hell, Taylor Swift wasn't even _music_ , let alone something to play in a fucking porn shop. Oh, but it got better. If Taylor Swift's bitching didn't get to you while you were trying to look at _Busty Asian Beauties_ , then it was seeing couples Everywhere. You. Went. And that totally deserved capitalization because if it wasn't the worst part about this cupid-infested holiday, he didn't know what was.

Jensen had tried to ignore it as always, but eventually, it was impossible to pretend the stupid holiday didn't exist. Especially when he worked at a café in the upper-class part of Stanford for a manager who was so obsessed with love, you'd think that's what he was serving, rather than delicate crème puffs and something to do with brioche and whipped chocolate. How he'd even gotten this job was beyond him, but it was while he was hungover and too tired to argue with Misha and Vicky about finding something productive to do. Misha getting married had been a horrible idea, and he regretted encouraging his buddy to get the girl, because it made Misha _reasonable_. It made him calm and mature and…and _happy_!

So maybe the last one was a good thing, but _mature_! The _hell_? Misha Collins who couldn't keep a straight face if his life depended on it. His best friend who would stop whatever he was doing to go to a bar with him wearing nothing but a tight pair of pants and glitter. And dude, was he wasted on a woman; although Vicky was hot, intelligent beyond belief, and could drink them _both_ under the table, so Jensen figured Misha had made out on that deal. But still, _Misha fucking Collins_ who proved he could suck his own dick if the fancy took him!

Mature. _No._

So when he got married and had those two adorable kids, it had come as a bit of (a lot of) a shock to Jensen. His bro in crime still visited regularly, sometimes for some guy time and sometimes with his family, but it left the blond with a lot of down-time that he'd rather not have filled with this particular job. But Misha and Victoria in a tag team…that was downright scary. And hungover, he'd been in no position to argue unless they were suddenly into threesomes and him half-dead on the floor was somehow arousing. He hoped they didn't swear like that in front of the kids. 'Unca Jen' would have enough to explain when they really started talking.

So, he'd been given a job; hallelujah the wayward son has returned.

_No. Fucking. Thank you._

He grumbled as he wiped down the last table, getting ready to head out for the day, when the bell over the door jingled merrily and Jensen turned around ready to spill some blood on the newly washed floor.

"Can't you see the sign says—"

"Closed, I know. Don't worry, I'm just here to give Dana something."

 _Holy six-feet and counting!_ Jensen's jaw almost went slack. There was a moose standing in the doorway. A very, very attractive moose with long honey brown hair, sweet hazel eyes, and pouty lips that he wouldn't mind taking photos of for the National Geographic's mating edition.

It was a second before he could get his mind back on track from the pit of iniquity it had just fallen into. "Dana, huh? What, you her boyfriend or something?" Now he eyed the man suspiciously. Dana hadn't mentioned a lover, and Dana told him everything. Often more than he wanted to know. If he wasn't banging her, then he didn't need to know about another guy's dick unless he was the one handling it.

The moose looked startled for a moment before he laughed. "No, no, just a friend. I uh, owe her for some notes and thought this would be the best way to repay her. She loves them." He shrugged, handing Jensen a set of books titled _Supernatural_. "She's kind of crazy, but a great note-taker and an even better friend, so I'm not complaining."

Jensen just nodded and they stared at each other awkwardly for a minute. "Uhh, well, I better head back, I have class in a few…"

"Yeah, yeah, you have class, of course. Stanford. And I have closing. Because we're closed," Jensen said with all the air and wisdom of a philosopher that was drunk off his ass. _Smoooooth criminal_ he jeered at himself. The smile he got in return was worth it though.

"Guess so. Um, I'll see you around then," he said, in a way that could almost be described as half-hopeful if Jensen was paying attention to the tone rather than how the moose's lips shaped his words. Speaking of which, it was really time to stop calling him moose.

"Yeah, maybe. Got a name?"

"What?"

"A name, Stanford smartie. The thing people shout when they're trying to catch you in the hallway or having sex with you." Jensen smirked at the flush that spread up to the moose's ears. "C'mon, I can't go around calling you Moose."

The guy wrinkled his nose in a distasteful manner. "Moose?"

"You're at least six foot-four; that makes you a moose."

"That's actually how tall I am."

"My case still stands. High above the clouds where the rest of the moose can see." He grinned at the genuine laughter that sounded rich and deep and altogether far more arousing than he was comfortable with _. Calm down, man. Probably never going to see him again, just chill._

"Jared. My name's Jared."

"Cute name for a moose."

"Shut up, jerk!" There was no venom in Jared's voice, just mirth, and Jensen thought maybe he should be more careful. This guy seemed like the friendly type. The kind that didn't know friendly flirtation from the 'do me now, and do it hard' type.

"Well, Jared, I'm Jensen, and if you ever come by again, maybe I'll be less inclined to close up so quick. Could always use a dude around here. Girls are great, but Christ you should hear them chatter. Fucking make _me_ blush with some of the shit they say, and that's an accomplishment! If I ever hear the word 'fanfiction' again…" he shuddered. Jared made a sympathetic grimace.

"Dana reads that stuff. Kind of weird if you ask me. It was nice to meet you, Jensen, I think I might take you up on that offer. My usual order is a house salad and a caramel macchiato with whip crème, if you don't feel inclined to hear it repeated a thousand and one times."

It was the blond's turn to wrinkle his nose. "What are you, a woman? A caramel what's-it-now? And I've never seen you around."

"I usually come on Wednesdays and Fridays, which must mean they're your days off. I had a free session today though. And I'll tell you now, everything from top to bottom is one-hundred percent male."

Jensen eyed him appreciatively. "I'll bet it is." _Okay, and time to shut the fuck up._

Jared gave him a strange look, but was already headed towards the door. "Remember my order and I'll tip well," he called over his shoulder, and Jensen thought all he'd need was a bit of sway to complete the sass.

"I doubt I'll forget." It was said to an empty store with a 'Closed' sign flashing out front. He sighed and got back to cleaning.

xXx

"And why, if I may ask, did I just hear about this _today_?" Misha asked in the calm voice that told Jensen he was about to get his ass handed to him by someone three inches shorter than him and was in theatre for a living.

"Uhh, I just remembered it. Didn't seem important at the time." It was a lie, and Misha could smell fear.

"Bull. Shit. Fess up, Ackles, or I'll get my angel blade."

Jensen scoffed to cover up his nervousness. "Pfft, that thing isn't even real metal!"

"Metal and plastic feels the same if I shove it up your ass," he warned with the same calm tone. _Jesus Christ!_ "And you would know."

"Fuck, why am I friends with you, you homicidal twerp? Get away from me!" He tried to run, but one kick to the back of his knee had Jensen on the floor on his stomach with Misha sitting on top of him with his head on his hands and a stupid grin on his face.

"Don't make me get Vicky, Jen."

Much to his absolute mortification, Jensen whimpered a bit. "Why is your family so goddamned insane?" He asked the universe more than Misha, who shrugged anyways.

"Russian and Canadian is the most volatile combination and should only be undertaken in a controlled environment. My bride said 'no' to the controlled environment, but I think it's affecting us." He pretended to stare off into space. "I wonder what our kids will be like when they're grown?"

"Crazy. All of you. I saw that cooking show. Get off."

"Tell me about Jared and I'll spare your ass an angel blade."

"Psycho friends and props not made for fucking," the blond muttered, but relented. "Okay, he's a six-foot-four moose with perfect hair that I want to run my hands through, the greatest laugh ever, and a mouth made for fucking. Can I go now?"

"No. And you said you met him at the café?"

"Yes. Can I go now?"

"No. You said 'greatest laugh ever' second." He said it so seriously.

"Yeah, so?"

"You never mention anything but things that you deem fuckable. Granted, two out of the three had something to do with sex, but it's progress."

"What?"

"I'll have to tell Vicky about imminent weddings."

"Wha—hell no!"

"She'll be expecting children at some point, so you might want to prepare Jared for her wrath should he fail."

"Misha!"

His friend's eyes were warm. "I'm kidding, Jen. But I'm glad he's interesting at least. Think he'll stop by again?" He ignored the blond's mumbled 'Not if I can save him from ever meeting you' and patted Jensen's cheek. "Well, I hope it goes well. Make sure you keep me updated so no props go anywhere unexpected. Deal?"

"Yes, fine, deal. Can I go?"

"No. You came over to watch the game with me."

"You can get off of me for that."

"If you could feel how comfortable you are, you wouldn't say that."

"I will tell your wife we're fucking behind her back." It wasn't an idle threat, either.

"She knows I love only her. And she's sat on you before. She'll understand what I mean."

"Shit," Jensen groaned. Misha was always right. Vicky joined them about ten minutes later and didn't even hesitate to join her husband on Jensen's back.

"I like this couch, honey." She propped her feet on his bicep.

"My arm is falling asleep, you bitch."

xXx

It wasn't until Thursday that Jared made his grand re-appearance. Jensen handed him a house salad and a caramel macchiato and directed him to the nearest open seat.

He wasn't about to tell him that he'd come in every day this week and made the food and beverage, and re-made it every time the coffee went cold so it would be ready when the moose walked in. _I'm probably growing ovaries by now. My manhood will shrivel away to nothing and I'll grow long blond tresses—_

"Hey, are you okay? You look really distraught," Jared's voice interrupted his morbid thoughts.

 _You would too if you realized you were going to lose your dick rights._ "Nah, just tired. I worked more than usual this week; sick coworker," he covered smoothly. Jared nodded sympathetically.

"Tough luck. I just wanted to say the macchiato is the best I've had here. I think I'll switch café days if this is what you bribe me with," he said with a smile. Jensen thought about kissing that smile into an 'o' of completion, but decided he'd rather talk for a bit.

_Ovaries and babies and the whole nine yards. Better do it right._

"I get off in an hour if you feel like sticking around…" he trailed off, realizing there was _no way_ that sounded like anything other than a date offer.

If Jared knew that, he didn't show it. "Yeah! I'm done with classes for the day. I don't really make friends easily unless someone asking to borrow my papers counts, so that'd be cool."

"You bet." He was proud that he didn't glance over his shoulder on the way back to the kitchen.

The hour went by _very slowly_.

Stolen glimpses aside, Jensen didn't get a chance to talk to the other man until closing. When he walked over, he stopped a moment before the table to admire Jared's concentrated look and the way his neck strained just enough to flex the muscles that bent him over the pages. He looked down to collect himself and scowled at the valentine heart stuck to his shoe, ripping it off to throw it away. Jared noticed, glancing up from his book. "Not a fan?"

"Hell no," he answered. He slid into the booth across from Jared, careful not to bump legs in the small space. "Damn commercial holiday and biggest suicide day of the year. What's to like?"

His companion shrugged. "Dunno, I've never really noticed the day beyond acknowledging the alarming shades of pink everywhere. But, I guess if you either spend the day with friends or someone important, it's not so bad. I usually hang with Dana and my friend Jake until they start complaining that I'm not out somewhere, so I leave to make them happy and just go to a library to wait out the storm."

"You're a better man than me. I once actively sought out a bar that loves the holiday in order to complain about it. This day makes me all kinds of pissed off."

"Wow, that's…" he laughed, and then laughed harder, putting his head on the table for a few moments with the force of it. Jensen grinned broadly at the accomplishment. "Something," he finished.

It was almost two hours later of information both important and trivial that they realized the time. "Yeesh, when did it turn five-forty?"

"About half a minute ago. Guess time flies," Jared sighed, stretching. Jensen didn't really try very hard not to stare at the smooth expanse of hips and stomach that his shirt revealed. "Thanks for putting up with me. You probably have stuff to do."

"Nah, not a thing. I'd have had no problems falling asleep if I didn't care, I'm that kinds of ass, but it was…cool. Talking. To you." He smiled, trying to refrain from asking if he'd like to hear a different kind of talk. Jared was really awesome, and if those two hours were any indication, he would have a good time getting to know him, in whatever form that took. No need to mess it up.

"Yeah…" he replied, almost shyly. _Huh_. "Hey, uh, I'm really sorry if this is too far out of the ballpark, but—" he stopped. And didn't seem inclined to go on. _Nope, spit whatever it is out, man._ When he almost turned, Jensen made a noise of acknowledgment.

Jared sighed. "Fuck, this is weird." Hearing 'fuck' from Jared's mouth was weird. _And arousing._ "Not my style. But, uh, do you want to maybe, spend Valentine's with me? I mean, that happens right? People get together for the holiday and then go off and do whatever?" Jensen's spirits (and his dick) sank a bit at the idea of a one-off. He'd—surprisingly—prefer friendship over that in this particular case. He opened his mouth to decline, but Jared wasn't finished. "But, uh, is it too strange to get together on Valentine's Day and then try a relationship? That feels, well, it should feel backwards, but I dunno it just…fits?"

Jensen wasn't sure until later, but when he looked back, he thought that might have been when he decided he could maybe love this guy somewhere down the road. Sweet, downright fucking sexy, an air of compassion and maturity that should send him running but drew him closer, and a 'do-what-works' attitude. Oh yeah, he could get on board with that.

He was right, but he wouldn't know until later. For now, his body knew it could love Jared just fine.

"Yeah. I think I can do that," Jensen breathed, leaning up—and _that_ would take some getting used to—to just brush his lips along Jared's. _Slow,_ he thought, _slow and steady for this. Do what works._ A hand found his waist and the other to rest lightly at the base of his neck. He knew he was welcome, that wasn't why he hesitated. It was just to watch as those hazel eyes close in anticipation. Their lips touched a bit firmer, and the kiss was immediately fiercer than either expected, unprepared for the assault of _right, right, right_ that bombarded Jared's senses. It didn't start slow, but somehow even that fit them better. In this, they could act, rather than think, and Jensen was more than willing to watch this highly desirable part of Jared rise to the surface. He opened his mouth to Jared, and felt the heat of another tongue against his. Skilled, dexterous, and ready to devour him whole. _Not was I was expecting._ But _fuck_ if it didn't make him want it bad. Uncertainty or potential clumsiness on either of their parts was burned away with a quiet sound, muffled by Jensen's mouth, and he gripped the taller man's shoulders to bring him closer. The pressure on his skin seemed to bring Jared into a different mood. His kisses slowed, leaning back a moment before bringing both hands to the other's face, stopping under his eyes and tracing up to his temples.

"God, you're beautiful." And Jensen wouldn't even protest being called any form of pretty if it kept Jared's attention. "I knew I was fucked the second you turned around. Didn't think it'd be like this though."

"What, instant soul connection or whatever?" Jensen teased.

Jared smiled. "Nah, but close enough. Sorry if that freaks you out. I'll keep it to myself."

"It should freak me out, I'm a love 'em and leave 'em type, and I'll admit it. But…I think I'll give us two dates before I make that call."

"Does this count as the first?"

"I'm a classy son of a gun, Jared. You'll have to buy me dinner to make it count."

"I can do that."

"Mm, dessert first, I think."

With a laugh, Jared's lips studied every part of his face, and Jensen sighed at the attention. He hadn't expected this, not at all, but his length was hard and ready for the unexpected, and he could feel an answering press against his hip. He moaned a bit when Jared moved his mouth to his ear and asked, "Tell me if or when you want to stop, alright?" Jensen shivered at the deeper tones arousal provided the taller man and snorted.

"I ain't a blushing virgin, Jared. Fuck me into the wall, on the floor, hell let's go a round on table thirty eight, 'cause that table always gives me problems. It's the curse of the café." This time, his moan was louder and slightly more embarrassing when Jared bit at his neck, just so. _"Fuck!"_

"You want me on top, then?" The words sank into his very skin, and it felt _good_.

"Won't always roll over, but this time? Hell. Fucking. Yes."

Jared hadn't known what to expect if his proposal wasn't turned down flat, but it wasn't this. He slid back to unknot his tie, watching with a rush of heat as Jensen's eyes followed his movements predatorily. He could see the obvious arousal hidden under clothing, and the need to get rid of the barriers was strong. He sunk down in front of the blond as he worked to get the tie off, and pushed up the uniform shirt to slide his lips along a well-defined stomach and prominent hip bones. Jensen worked out. Frequently. He wondered if he could convince him to have a go at the tournament his team played next weekend. He didn't care so long as he could keep the smooth skin under his tongue. He dipped his tongue in and came back up to insistently push the shirt higher.

The shudder Jensen quivered with was not hidden this time. His hands wavered when he pulled his shirt off, but resumed their steadiness when he began to undo Jared's buttons. The taller man traced a tight nipple, the cold air and his wet tongue bringing it to a near-bruised attention before he switched. Soft panting was the only sound in the café, most of the students at home or in class. The closed sign blinked on and off outside.

Deft fingers slid across his scalp and pushed into his hair, gripping lightly like he was enjoying the sensation of it. Jared decided that anyone who called his hair-products girly could suck it. It was paying off. Jensen smirked when he had Jared's shirt tossed aside, bringing him back to standing where his own sinful mouth could play. His tongue licked at the fluttering vein of Jared's neck, and his bite was decidedly harder than his lover's had been.

"Ah!" Reactions were beautiful. He soothed with soft kisses until he was forgiven and pushed Jared against the wall to pay attention to his chest and stomach while he unbuckled Jared's belt and slid the crisp black pants and smart boxer briefs to crumple on the floor where Jensen's followed. They stepped on each other's shoes to help get them off and socks were dispensed with until they were bared to the cool air. He stood back a moment to admire the view, licking his lips. You couldn't get views like this in New Zealand, and he frequently marathoned Lord of the Rings. "Jensen," Jared had reached his limit, and Jensen was happy to oblige. Not yet, though, he decided rakishly.

He sank to the floor, but instead of going for the prize, he took a detour. His teeth grazed along firm thighs and to the backs of his knees, where Jared cried out. His breath hitched at the touch, slightly ticklish and suddenly more aroused than before. Jensen could feel powerful muscles ripple beneath his hands and mouth. "Knew it," he murmured against damp skin, glistening with the desire to rut until they were sated. "Strange erotic spot, but Christ is it hot."

"How—ah! How the hell do you—" another full body shivered electrocuted his spine.

"Intuition. You're not the only one feeling weird soul mojo."

Jared decided to ask questions later. He almost let Jensen finish him with that mouth that trailed promisingly back up to his erection—and fuck, he'd never been hard like this, he would have remembered—but decided that would end the party before it started. "No, later." Was all he could manage. Jensen winked and suddenly disappeared to the kitchen, leaving his befuddled partner behind. He returned a moment later with a bottle of lube and a condom. From the kitchen.

"You dirty son of a bitch," Jared breathed.

"Boy scout," the blond laughed cheekily. "Always wanted to try it here. This is the Christening, so to speak." He pushed Jared onto the booth side of table thirty eight, and looked at the sight presented to him. _Goddamn_. He almost considered making a show of it, opening himself, but then he thought about Jared's hands that were shaking with the need to touch, and those scholar's fingers…

He handed the supplies over.

Well-slicked fingers wasted no time, circling only a bit before one pushed into him, deep and knowing what he wanted. "Oh god," he moaned unabashed. "Fuck, that's good." He could feel it moving within him in tandem with the hot breaths ghosting over his neck and the wet tongue that tasted every so often. He nearly screamed with relief when his prostate was assaulted and blissful sparks flew along his vision. By the time a second and third was added, he and Jared were kissing sloppily, tongue and teeth and want and _more_. _Right, right, right, so good._ His mind had abandoned English in favor of feeling. "Jared, now. Fucking now, or I'm—" he didn't even finish the sentence before he was pushed over and onto the table with Jared behind him, kneeling on the booth and braced against the back. He could hear the elastic of the condom and if he wasn't filled _right now_.

"Jensen," the taller man whispered once before he pushed forward, knowing that stopping would be unwelcome, but he still kissed the back of Jensen's neck in distraction. The drawn out keen informed him of a good decision. "Ah!" Jensen's body pulled him in until he was buried to the hilt, and his body shook so hard from the effort to wait just a few seconds that he might as well have been moving anyways.

"Jared!" It was a plea and an order and a moan all in one, and Jared was not going to question that. He pulled out a bit, and rocked forward, establishing rhythm and brushing Jensen's prostate every few strokes. "Harder—fuck! Harder!" The pace was brutal, but Jensen was writhing against him, slick hands trying to scrabble for purchase on the smooth table. When he found it, he pushed back as best he could, until his vision was too blurry to see the pattern on the carpet and the wood of the chairs. A mouth kissed along his back, teeth bit his neck and all he could do was half-scream with not enough breath and hope that it would end now and never ever end at all.

Jared could feel the intolerable pressure, and he reached around to pump Jensen's weeping erection with every thrust. It was only a few strokes later that Jensen went rigidly still and came with Jared's name almost soundless without breath to form it. His body wracked itself with every pulse of release, and Jared stroked him through until the clenching of Jensen's body forced his own orgasm out of him, spilling into Jensen's sated body.

When the white slowly faded back to colour again, he dropped his head to Jensen's back, keeping him upright on the table, and kissed his sweaty back lazily.

"Christ, that was good," the blond muttered from under him, blearily climbing up to lay on top of Jared in cramped space the booth afforded. "Don't even think about calling me a cuddler, 'cause I'm not, but the seat is small."

"Okay," Jared agreed tiredly, wrapping his arms around Jensen anyways. He'd make a cuddler out of him yet.

They didn't feel the need to discuss future who's-its and what's it, because there was definitely going to be a future, and they could talk after their next round.

xXx

Late in the night—or early in the morning—when the place was cleaned within an inch of its life (Jared had to convince Jensen that leaving their cum on table thirty eight and calling it some sort of spilled condiment was not going to work), and coffee replaced the smell of sex in the air, they were confronted with the realization that the security cameras had taped their entire, er, first and second (and third) date.

Jensen shrugged and said he could get the tape out.

Jared sighed with relief until a grin tugged at his lover's mouth.

"And I'm gonna send it to National Geographic."


End file.
